A quiet little spot where Rod Mollise shares his adventures and misadventures...

Sunday, October 13, 2013

My Favorite Star Parties: Cherry Springs 2006

When is a
repeat not a repeat, muchachos? When
the subject wasn’t sufficiently covered back in the days of this blog’s
infancy. The Little Old Blog from Chaos Manor South didn't really hit its
stride till about two years after its birth, till I learned to stretch out. To give my Sunday morning epistles
plenty of room. Yes, I did a couple of entries on the 2006 Cherry Springs Star Party right after the event, but both were
brief and one of the nation’s premier star parties deserves more.

Let me
preface this by saying rat-cheer that, as always, being one of My Favorite Star Parties doesn'tnecessarily mean the
observing was top-notch. I had a wonderful time at Cherry Springs in ‘06, but
remnants of a tropical system that made it all the way up to dadgum
Pennsylvania prevented the site from really showing what it could do.

Back in the spring of 2006, I knew
something about Cherry Springs, if not about the Cherry Springs Star Party. I
had at least heard of the Black Forest
Star Party, the other star party
held at Pennsylvania’s Cherry Springs State Park, but I didn’t know pea-turkey
about the CSSP. Not till one afternoon when the kitchen computer made the bleep-bloop
sound that means Outlook has downloaded a new email.

When I
opened the missive from Mike Snider of the Astronomical Society of Harrisburg (Pennsylvania),
I was intrigued. ASH, who were putting on the 2006 Cherry Springs Star Party,
were inviting me up to be a speaker. The 2006 CSSP would be
held 22 – 26 June 2006, and it looked like it was gonna be a good one. The star party’s state park home
near Coudersport, Pennsylvania, sounded great, there were lots of vendors lined
up, there was food onsite, and it appeared I could expect a large and
enthusiastic audience for my talk. I fired off a response to ASH giving them a
big Unk Rod thumbs-up.

Meals on Wheels ASH style...

Shortly
thereafter, we firmed up the details, which would have me flying up on Friday,
23 June. I was still a big-time wage slave in them days, of course, and couldn’t
do Thursday. The only thing that gave me pause was the question of getting to Coudersport
and the Cherry Springs Star Party. The airlines didn't seem to think somebody
from Possum Swamp would ever want to go there.

The only way
for me to get to the CSSP was to fly into Elmira – Corning New York and drive
south for about 85-miles. Unk didn't much like the sound of that. Still, what
could happen? Mike said they’d have a rent-a-car waiting for me, and that the
directions to Cherry Springs State Park were easy to follow. I sure hoped so,
since the entire state of Pennsylvania was unknown country for your Southron Uncle.

My Friday
morning journey started out with, natch, the 6 a.m. zombie flight out
of Possum Swamp Regional. From there, I had a layover in Charlotte. And another
one in freaking Philly. The “service” from U.S. Airways was about
the same as what I hear tell an American could expect from the Soviets’
Aeroflot at the height of the Cold War.

The problem
for your old Unk wasn’t the skimpy bag of peanuts thrown at him by the frowning stews, it was that back then U.S. Air was notorious for their
efficiency—or lack thereof. They have
improved substantially judging by my recent and reasonably pleasant flight with them to DC for the Almost Heaven Star Party, but in
2006 they always seemed to run late. I was beginning to feel antsy when I hit Philadelphia,
since the delays were beginning to stack up and the afternoon was sliding away.
I hadn’t seen nuttin’ yet: “Ladies and
Gentlemen, there is a maintenance issue with the Elmira flight. We hope to have
you out of here in an hour or two.
Thanks for flying U.S. Airways!”

By the time
I made it to the little Elmira - Corning airport, it was after 5 p.m. and it was
getting dark already due to rain and fog.
Unk began to feel more than just a little antsy; he began to feel downright
timid about driving off into the wilds of northern Pennsylvania. But what was
there to do but head for the rent-a-car place?

RCX400 outside the Dealers' Tent...

For once on
the trip, I lucked out. The little girl at the Avis counter said she’d been
ready to close up shop for a while, but she knew there was a late flight coming
in and had stayed on. The bad part was that she’d already rented just about everything
she had with four wheels. All that remained was a Saturn Ion. I don’t know if
you remember GM’s short-lived attempt to be “relevant,” but the Ion was small
and it was rough riding and it dern sure didn’t have no GPS.

Sat-nav was
still rare in rental cars in them days, and Unk didn't own a standalone receiver
either. This trip dang sure got him to thinking about one, though. Luckily, there was still good, old Triple-A
with their Trip-tick maps, which by then you could print out on the computer.
The difficulty for your old Unk was that his middle-aged eyes had a hell of a time
reading the directions without his reading glasses, and the readers made it impossible
for him to see how to drive. Whatev’. I started the cotton-picking Ion and
headed for I-86.

At first,
all was well. I headed south, passing the turnoff for Corning, New York and the
Corning Glass Factory Museum. Being a nerd, I was right sorry I didn't have
time to stop and take it in. It wasn’t until I crossed the Pennsylvania border
and left the Interstates that things got a mite hairy. It might as well have
been full dark given the weather, and once I got on PA 49, the highway that
would get me where I needed to go, I began to run into road construction and
freaking detours.

After about
an hour and a half, I thought I was in the general vicinity of Cherry Springs
State Park, but was not quite sure. Hell, let’s be honest, I wasn’t sure at all. The four lane roads had
degenerated into two lane ones and I’d entered a heavily forested area that
looked like it came right out of some dark fairytale set in, yep, The Black
Forest.

Unk was just
about to go all paranoid when I saw a Pennsylvania Smokey the Bear parked on
the side of the road, a Pennsylvania State Trooper, that is. I pulled in ahead
of him, got out, walked over, said howdy, and asked, “Where in the h-e double
hockey sticks is the Cherry Springs State Park?” The trooper laughed and laughed,
and when he got over his fit, pointed over Unk’s shoulder. Behind me was a billboard-sized
sign welcoming Unk to Cherry Springs.

The Registration Tent...

From there,
it was smooth sailing to the star party; I rolled into the park just a wee bit
after 6:30 p.m., not too shabby, I thought, given my late arrival in New York.
What impressed me right off the bat? Signs that reminded tourists this was a
designated astronomy observing field, and that headlights were to be dimmed
when entering. On my left was the registration tent. Man, was your old
Uncle relieved.

Despite the
slightly late hour, there were a couple of ASH folks waiting for Unk at the
registration tent. They seemed slightly put-out when I requested a T-shirt (I
love collecting star party t-shirts), but in retrospect I believe that was just
my imagination. They may have been
put-out, but I believe that had more to do with the weather than with your old
Uncle. It was not raining, but rain was threatening and from what they said it
sounded like there hadn’t been much—if any—viewing Thursday night, either.
Anyhow, it had been a long day for everybody, I reckon.

After
checking in, I took a turn around the site, starting with the large tent that
housed the vendors. Not much going on there. With evening coming on, the
dealers, who included Camera Concepts,
Skies Unlimited, and TeleVue, were packing it in. I did get the
chance to see Vixen’s brand new Sphinx mount, which I’d been curious about. I
had some questions about it, but the person running the booth, David Nagler I
believe, seemed purty busy. That was OK; I’d have Saturday to examine the mount
and all the other stuff in the tent. And there would be more cool stuff the
next day. I knew Meade Instruments would have their big spread laid out, and I was
expecting my friends from Denkmeier, the binoviewer folks, too.

The more I
tramped around the park, the more impressed I became. The state of Pennsylvania
had set out to build a “dark sky park,” and they were obviously putting time
and money into the project. It wasn’t just the signs designating the area an
astronomical observing field. They were in the process of building a nice, big
dome appropriate for large Dobsonians, pouring concrete observing pads, and
installing electrical power outlets on the field. Maybe I should take back all
those mean things I’d said about Yankees over the years? Nah, didn't want to be
too hasty.

I enjoyed
touring the expansive observing field, but it was getting cloudier and damper
by the minute—it was just on the verge of misting rain. Most everybody on the
site was buttoned up in tents and RVs and had their scopes covered. To be
honest, y’all, I almost welcomed the nasty weather. It had been a long, long
day and the prospect of a warm motel room (it was already on the chilly side)
and a few brewskies was irresistible. Yep, time to head for the room the ASH
had reserved for me at the Mill Stream Inn in nearby Coudersport. Locating my
hosts again, I got directions, received a warning to look out for “all the
deer,” and headed to town.

Winding my
way back down through the park at dusk, I did indeed pass plenty of deer, at
least ten does, before I’d left Cherry Springs. My old friend back home, Bubba,
would have had a fine and illegal time. Coudersport, a pretty little town
nestled in the rolling hills and small mountains of the Alleghenies, was easy
to find and so was my hostelry.

The Mill
Stream Inn was modern, well kept, and had something most out-in-the-country
motels didn't have seven years ago, free wireless Internet. The lady at the
desk was a little more taciturn that what I am used to, and it finally dawned
on me that most of the people up here were just a little more reserved than us naturally passionate and ebullient southerners.

Unpacked, it
was almost time to relax with the cable TV, but I wanted a six-pack of
pea-picking Kolorado Kool-aid to help with that. I hopped in the Ion and soon
found a local grocer. No beer or wine. That was something of a surprise. I’d
just wintered not too far away in Maine, and their grocery stores were packed
to the gills with wine, beer, and hard
liquor. There wasn’t a single sixer to be had at the filling station, either.
There were some good old boys in residence, luckily: “Son, you’ll have to find
a bar. They’ll sell you a six-pack to-go. Try the Beef and Ale.”

Mill Stream Inn...

Which is
exactly what I did. I thought I’d have supper at the Beef and Ale House too,
but a glance at the menu in the bar and a look at one of the burgers the
waitress brought out indicated the place, which had looked impressive outside, wasn’t
so hot inside (they have since closed, I believe). I’d stick to the ale. I’d
had a meal, a great big cheese steak, in the Philly airport anyway. I wound up
with a six of Yuengling, which was
new to me then, at the suggestion of the barmaid, and made tracks back to the motel.

In my room,
I found the Yuengling stuff to my liking, and spent a couple of hours browsing
Cloudy Nights and channel hopping on the cable TV before calling it a night. I
was happy to be in Cherry Springs after a somewhat trying journey, and was
looking forward to checking out the star party’s people and scopes and vendors on
Saturday.

Saturday
morning, but not bright and early Saturday morning, I headed to the lobby to
see what was what breakfast-wise. This was just before the average motel
continental breakfast ballooned into the full spread of eggs and bacon and
sausage and waffles it is today, but Unk was more than happy with an English
muffin or two and a donut or three. As soon as I’d washed the last sinker down
with Java, I hopped in the car and headed back to the star party.

On the
Cherry Springs field, I finally had to admit that, yes, I’d been wrong about some Yankees. As the day wore on, I met more and
more nice folks, many of them familiar names from my SCT User Yahoogroup (which
is still on the air, by the way, despite the recent machinations of
Yahoo). I admired their scopes and enjoyed the scenery and the weather. It was
still partly cloudy, and the humidity was no doubt higher than normal for this
location, but it felt like crisp fall air compared to what we’d been having
on the cotton-picking Gulf Coast.

The Beef and Ale...

Next up was
lunch. While the ASH had their lunch wagon on site doling out burgers and dogs,
I thought I might get something in town that was at least once-removed from
fast food. Tooling along, enjoying the picture-book Pennsylvania countryside, I
eventually came upon a little diner that filled the bill and the hole in my
tummy. The diner and everything else in town seemed to have been transplanted straight out of
the 1950s. When I looked up at the marquee of Coudersport’s old-timey movie
theatre, I halfway expected to see Rebel
without a Cause up there.

After
resting up back at the motel for a spell, I was back in that consarned
Ion—which actually did OK—and headed back to spend the rest of the day and a
good part of the night at the Cherry Springs Star Party.

There, I did
some more wandering around and picture taking, but I also spent a considerable
length of time in the dealer tent. My good buddies from Denkmeier arrived
shortly, as did Owl Astronomy Products. The most interesting display for me,
though, was Meade’s. Their Field Rep
had a big table showing off the latest iteration of the company’s Ultrawide
eyepieces, the first change in their design in years and years. But, most of
all, he had a 10-inch RCX400 set up.

If you read this here, you
know the RCX400 was supposed to be Meade’s 21st Century breakthrough SCT.
That didn’t happen, but it was still an impressive piece of hardware, y’all.
Never mind its reduced coma optics, motorized focusing and collimation, and
built in dew heater, this was onepretty scope. It was a big mutha too, the 10-inch looking to be
about the size of an LX200 12-inch to Unk. I spent quite a while playing with
it and talking about it with the Meade dude.

With all
them goodies laid out before me, what did I buy? I was mindful that whatever I
bought needed to fit in my suitcase, so I kept myself in check. I spent most of
my time just browsing and shooting the breeze with my pal and telescope dealer extraordinaire,
Bob Black, the proprietor of Skies Unlimited.
Did I eventually make a purchase? What do you-all think? It was small and modest,
however, a 3X apochromatic Barlow from Owl that I am still using to this very day for Solar
System imaging .

It seemed
like I’d only been on site and hour or two, but ol’ Sol was soon sinking.
Wandering over to the pavilion where the talks would be held, I had the
pleasure of running into the new Editor-in-Chief of Sky and Telescope (and CSSP Keynote Speaker), Bob Naeye. I’d been a little disturbed by the events that had taken
place shortly after my visit to the magazine’s old digs on Bay State Road
earlier in ’06. Sky and Telescope had
been sold to an outfit called “New Track Media,” and a new Editor, Bob, had
taken the reins. A few minutes talking with Mr. Naeye assured me that the best
astronomy magazine there has ever been was in good, very good, hands.

After rapping
with Bob and scoping out the place where I would be speaking, I had just enough
time to grab a bite of supper before my talk. That came from the ASH lunch
wagon. My burger and chips were just right…not too much and not too little and
quite tasty.

Then it was
time for me to go on. My presentation was, “Everything you Always Wanted to
Know about Deep Sky Video but were Afraid to Ask.” This talk marked the
beginning of my crusade to spread the word about video observing.
What’s amazing, when I look at my slides from that day, is how far video has come
in the last seven years.

Naturally,
Unk didn't just tell the folks about video, he interjected plenty of his down-home
humor in the form of corny jokes and countrified shenanigans (“Raise your hand
if’n you have EVER owned a Lynyrd Skynyrd Album.”). I’m sure my audience found Unk’s
rustic demeanor slightly trying, but they listened politely and asked tons of
questions afterwards. It was on this night that I decided video astronomy or
something like it really was the wave
of the future.

After the raffle,
hosted by yours truly, who subjected his long-suffering fellow star partiers to even
more cornball nonsense in the process of giving away plenty of good prizes, it
was time to observe. It was getting dark, and the sky was actually clearing. It
looked like it would be a purty good, if not exceptional, evening. Curse my
luck that I was without a telescope.

‘Course, I
could wander the field cadging looks through plenty of telescopes. To a man and
woman, the CSSPers were incredibly nice to me. But that is not the same as
having a scope of your own at your disposal. Since I do so many distant star
parties, I am used to being scopeless, but you can bet I was some kind of happy when the
Meade Field Rep asked if I’d like to use the RCX400, “You know more about it than
I do.”

You can read
my evaluation of the RCX in the above linked blog article, but suffice to say
she worked as good as she looked. Beautiful images and accurate go-to. I even
came to like the moto-focus system once I figured out which buttons to mash. One
thing I did not like about the RCX was that all its features were a little much
for the Autostar II hand control. Some functions required button combinations, and my gut feeling was the
scope needed an Autostar designed just for it. Still, she worked right well
despite, the rep told me, having been dropped during
unloading at the last star party he’d been to.

What did I
look at? The summer Messiers mostly. While it was very dark indeed, with hardly
anything in the way a visible light dome anywhere in the sky, it was not
completely clear. There was usually a little haze if not drifting clouds. During the clearer stretches, though, I could
tell this was a superior site. At those times, the Milky Way was downright
dramatic. The way M13 looked in that sweet 10-inch RCX is still locked in my mind all these years
later, campers.

Showtime!

The only bad
thing? My turns-into-a-pumpkin-time would have to be midnight. There was that
long drive back to New York in the morning and another full day in the air. It
was awful hard to pull myself away from that magnificent Meade Ultrawide, but I
did so somehow, said my good-nights and headed back to Coudersport. There, I
polished off the last couple of Yuenglings and watched maybe ten minutes of TV
before falling into a deep sleep.

If Friday
had been stressful, Sunday was relaxing. I had enough time to take the scenic
route back to Elmira – Corning, and that’s just what I did, spending several
hours oohing and ahhing over the pin-neat farms and small towns
of northern Pennsylvania . This was one time when I didn't mind
getting stuck behind a farmer’s tractor (and a horse drawn wagon), I was happy
to take my time and have a good look at a part of the country I had never
visited.

I’ve never returned
to Cherry Springs, but I sure would like to go back someday. Safe and sound
at home in the friendly confines of Chaos Manor South, I couldn’t help but wonder
what the sky would have been like at the CSSP on a really good night. And there were all those great people. And that marvelous
mountain country. Someday, muchachos, someday.

I am glad you liked my usual observing site, Uncle Rod. Seven years after starting going there regularly, I am still able to get lost on the smaller roads when trying an alternative route. In town, Mill Stream Inn has expanded and Beef and Ale House indeed closed. On the field the improvements continued and the sign on the gate is now saying in smaller and less friendly letters: “No white light. No entry or exit after dark. Fee required.”

There is a bar on the main intersection in Coudersport, opposite the town hall. Another is where you turn onto the small road to the park in Sweden Valley. Neither seems to have regular hours though. The best bet is Potato City Country Inn further (a good deal further) east on 6. By the time you make up your mind about going, Pennsylvania may have repealed its ludicrous regulations - there is a push for it. A fine state actually in other respects.